


I Will Cover My Eyes

by Kritty



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: ...or something, Canonical Character Death, Ficlet, Gen, Victor Hugo was an evil genius, apollo and his drunk skeptic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:56:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3335849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kritty/pseuds/Kritty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pandemonium is upon them, upon his friends - and he knows with every fibre of his being, that every single one of them will die. So he hides and drinks and hopes for a place in hell that is hot enough for his mangled soul to perish fast. [Ficlet]</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Cover My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** "Les Misérables" does not belong to me. There's a hint to "Drink with me" from the musical, and the direct speech is taken from the book by Victor Hugo. The title is a line from Ed Sheeran's "I see fire".
> 
> **Warnings:** (canon) character deaths. Also, English isn't my first language - tell me if you find any mistakes I made, thanks :)

  
****

**I Will Cover My Eyes**

  
_And if the night is burning_  
 _I will cover my eyes_  
 _For if the dark returns then_  
 _My brothers will die_  
[„I see fire“, Ed Sheeran]

### 

The pandemonium is upon them, upon his friends - and he knows with every fibre of his being, that every single one of them will die. So he hides and drinks and hopes for a place in hell that is hot enough for his mangled soul to perish fast.

The path away from destruction leads him to a dark corner, shadows shading off into other shadows and the floor shaking, welcoming his slumping form. He's aware of giving up, but he doesn't care about not caring. Maybe all this death means nothing after all.

There's canon and musket fire outside, loud and unforgiving, and it shatters his heart and bones without even reaching him. The wood around him is groaning, people are screaming.

His eyes are pinched shut, he doesn't even remember closing them, but he's determined to never open them again. The bottle in his sweaty hands is warm, the wine reeks and sloshes around, the ground under him is damp and slick with something – just like his mind, control slipping, unsteady and insecure.

He's sitting there for a long white, reality crumbling around him, his inner being pretending to do the same. The flinches with every loud noise still take him by surprise, but he's still hoping to slip into some kind of sleep, coma, or even -

Suddenly, there are voices coming closer, feet are thumping up the rocky stairs, and his hideout is put in jeopardy by the one thing he wanted to flee: Apollo's death.

„Take aim!“  
The guard's voice and Enjolras' stoic but nevertheless scared face – because even Gods and fearless leaders know all about being frightened - are like ice on his overheating heart, and he's sure his own loud gasp threatens to chase away the shadows and therefore the obscuring darkness.  
It doesn't matter though.

He's moving even before he makes the conscious decision, mouth forming words that hurt his throat but not at all his soul.

„Vive la République! I belong to it!“  
The wine bottle slips through his fingers, shatters on the ground, and all he hears is Enjolras' quick but controlled breathing, all he sees is the pale face framed by ridiculous curls and damning dirt.  
„Do you permit it?“, he whispers, and offers all he can give, all he could ever give.  
He gets a small smile in return, and the clicking of a musket is the added answer.  
Death might not mean anything, but...

His eyes falls closed once again, he's feeling a warm, sure hand taking his own. There's only seconds for them, he knows.

The pandemonium is upon them, upon his friends - and he knows with every fibre of his being, that every single one of them will be dead in a matter of minutes. So he closes his eyes and hopes it was enough, he hopes that-

(the shots ring out)  
 _...he's where he should be._

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** *pat pat* *gives you a cookie and hot chocolate*


End file.
